gathering, the Minorcans are arming, the blacks in the Carolinas watch
us, and the British regiments at Augustine are all itching to ravage and
plunder and drive us into the sea if we declare not for the King who
pays them."

Sir Lupus nodded, winked, and fell to slicing tobacco with a small, gold
knife.

"We're all Quakers in these days--eh, George? We can't fight--no, we
really can't! It's wrong, George,--oh, very wrong." And he fell
a-chuckling, so that his paunch shook like a jelly.

"I think you do not understand me," I said.

He looked up quickly.

"We Ormonds are only waiting to draw sword."

"Draw sword!" he cried. "What d'ye mean?"

"I mean that, once convinced our honor demands it, we cannot choose but
draw."

"Don't be an ass!" he shouted. "Have I not told you that there's no
honor in this bloody squabble? Lord save the lad, he's mad as
Walter Butler!"

"Sir Lupus," I said, angrily, "is a man an ass to defend his own land?"

"He is when it's not necessary! Lie snug; nobody is going to harm you.